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Beyond, the unknown lay before us once more, and another impossible task. The four of us emerged from the earth and turned our steps west, toward the last hope for Salvation.

Ann Aguirre

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Ann Aguirre
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: August 27
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
the United States of America
Ellen Connor
Ava Gray
Hope
West
Another
Toward
Emerged
Earth
Beyond
Unknown
Steps
Task
Impossible
Lays
Four
Salvation
Lasts
Tasks
Last
Turned

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Time is fluid, so the moments where everything feels perfect pass in a wink, and those where you're on your knees in despair drag on like the death of a thousand cuts.
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A huntress never stabbed anything she didn't want to.
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They say funerals are not for the dead but for the living. Those rites are what permit you to move on, so if you don't deal with the remains, you can never deal with the memories. That might be true we may have walked in their dust down on Venice Minor, but it's not the same as a proper good-bye.
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Sometimes the past needed to stay buried it was the only way you could move on. And sometimes you had to dig it up, because that too was the only way.
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How can you miss someone who’s right beside you?
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I know you have bad news,” I say softly. “I’m ready for it.” But that’s not true. One is never ready. You just lie and say you are and hope you can take the hit on the chin without going down.
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Don’t let them see you weak.
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Nobility and self-sacrifice sound wonderful in theory, but now he’s seen how it feels. A dead hero is still dead at the end of the day, and you’re still alone.
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Because it takes more courage to heal the world's hurts than to inflict them.
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For love to flourish there has to be trust. Promises don’t matter as much as personal choice.
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I admired Stalkers style. He was incredibly fast using two small blades strapped to the backs of his hands. Slash slash slash. Fighting him you wouldn’t die of one great wound but instead bleed out slowly surprised to find yourself weak and dying after a thousand cuts.
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Then in the interest of full honesty, I really wish you'd kiss me right now.
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Love can make us do dreadful things.
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There were different kinds of strength. I knew that now. It didn't always come from a knife or a willingness to fight. Sometimes it came from endurance, where the well ran deep and quiet. Sometimes it came from compassion and forgiveness.
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Possessiveness isn’t love. I’m not even sure it qualifies as an emotion.
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He is not the same person as when we met, but . . . neither am I. Time has refined us, but instead of pushing us apart, we’re closer than ever.
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He was the heat of a fire and the sweetness of the moon I'd only just met.
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Once exposed, a secret loses all its power.
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Survival feels like cowardice.
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Life…never gave me a chance to be soft.
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